


Cortana

by aheadfulloffollies



Category: The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Cortana - Freeform, F/M, Training, hhh lady with sword, james simping over cordelia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:01:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27071680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aheadfulloffollies/pseuds/aheadfulloffollies
Summary: After years apart, James invites Cordelia to train with him at the London Institute in an attempt to regrow their friendship.
Relationships: Cordelia Carstairs/James Herondale
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Cortana

It had been years since  James saw Cordelia. They were still friends, of course, in the way that they always would be, but something between them felt the slightest bit new. They were friends with each others’ younger selves, but had yet to get to know them as they were.

Thus, he considered training together a worthwhile way to get to know each other once again.

He knew that Lucie and Cordelia wrote letters, and did other things he wouldn’t pretend to understand besides. They didn’t have even a trickle of this newness, because there had never been a part of each others’ souls they didn’t know. But for him, it was different, and he had to admit that he missed his friend.

Matthew told him he was an idiot for choosing training, of all things, to bond over. He thought it rather smart.

Cordelia had always been skilled. Even as a child, she was the fastest of them, the one with the quickest reflexes (and smile). It would be interesting to see how those talents matured in her. He hardly expected her to be better than him anymore- he’d put in too much work for her to be able to beat him on foot any longer- but she was most likely a rather exceptional warrior. She held Cortana, after all.

But he was the son of Will and Tessa Herondale.

“James!” He was shocked out of his thoughts by the sight of the lady of the hour jogging towards him and skidding through the halls of the Institute to reach him and the doors to the training centre. Her bright smile brought a strange sort of sunshine to his chest. It had been so long.

“Daisy.” Her face seemed to brighten at the old nickname, and he made the mental note to use it more often, if only to see that intoxicating smile.

Shuffling her weight from one foot to the other somewhat awkwardly, her hand went to touch Cortana at her side. She nodded towards the doors. “Should… um, should we go in?

_ Oh.  _ Of course. He had invited her here for training, and instead had spent the past ten seconds staring like an imbecile. It was no wonder she seemed flustered. “Right, of course,” he said quickly, turning fast so she might not see the hint of a blush climbing up his neck.

He opened the doors and walked in, letting the cool air and familiar area wash over him in a single wave of reterned confidence. He knew what he was doing in this room, if not when having a conversation with Cordelia. Hopefully he might get better at the latter in this time, but if not, at least he had some solace.

Cordelia stepped beside him and surveyed the area, her eyes sweeping over the glossy floors and wide space hungrily. This, James realized belatedly, might be her first time ever seeing the area.

“Err, should we-” he started after a moment too long of awkward silence.

“Oh!” She blushed a light, hazy pink. “Right, of course. Where do you suppose-”

“Throwing knives, mayhaps?” he said, fumbling over his words a little.  _ Get it together,  _ he warned himself.  _ She’ll think you’re a bumbling fool. _ He cleared his throat and gestured toward the targets as if they might make his meaning more clear.

“Sure.” They walked over together, and James knew he wasn’t imagining the strangeness between them. Were they beyond remedy?

Cordelia carefully selected a golden dagger, and James chose a near copy in silver. They stood a good distance away from the targets, two metres or so. Eyes solely fixed on her target, Cordelia exhaled and sent the blade flying.

Bull’s-eye.

He raised his eyebrows, looking to her for any sign of surprise. But there was only a clever smile playing at her lips, and she turned to him with raised eyebrows. “Your turn.”

So this was how they’d play. Smirking to himself, James decided to raise the stakes. “I have a proposition.”

“Do tell.”

“We make this a competition. Whoever’s best at combat wins bragging rights.” He didn’t bother implementing a points system or harsh rules. Cordelia was fair- she always had been- and he was more than certain that wouldn’t waiver now.

Her smile grew into something devilish until it nearly matched his, and she nodded once. “Deal.”

Bragging rights were no joke. The bull’s-eye hadn’t been a fluke, then. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, James sent the dagger flying. He had to admit that this certainly wasn’t his area of expertise, but there was something almost calming about the familiarity of the motions. If he used them in an actual fight, he imaged there would be more panic involved in the process of stabbing someone than comfort, but within the safety of the Institute with only a wooden mark to bear the sharp indents, it was easy to forget that these actions were even violent at all.

“Good one,” Cordelia said, and James realized a bit too late that he hadn’t even bothered to look at where his dagger landed yet. For the second time that day, a blush rose on his cheeks and he looked hastily away. A bull’s-eye from him, too.

As they continued with their competition of sorts, he felt the air of distance melting. That bright smile was coaxed out a few more times, and on two occasions a laugh even accompanied it. In the past years she’d become increasingly witty, he learned, a trait he both enjoyed and admired.

It remained a sort of unspoken rule between them that they would save the duel for last. When the time came, as Cordelia unsheathed the legendary Cortana, he had the sinking suspicion this was where her expertise lay.

He had already been surprised multiple times by how talented she was. He’d underestimated her, as much as he might be ashamed to admit it. But Cordelia Carstairs might have been even more talented than himself- and that was high praise indeed.

“Scared?” she teased, noticing his hesitation.

He took the bait. “Never.” Taking a hold of his own blade, he raised it.

She moved without warning.

It was a strange, unusual sort of beauty. He was right in his assumption this time, that much was clear from the start: swordplay was where her true talents were. But she fought like no one he had ever seen. As their blades crashed and they moved through the room, he almost felt as if she were dancing but he’d never learned how. There was such a grace to the way she moved, and her steps were careful yet efficient to the point where his strokes were sloppy by comparison.

“You’re not nearly as good at this as you led me to believe,” she said between deep breaths.

He smirked. “You haven’t beaten me yet. I wouldn’t get so cocky, Daisy.”

“Wouldn’t you?” She smiled, and the look caught him off guard long enough for her to force him into a somewhat more compromising position than he had been.  _ Touché. _

“Well, maybe,” he admitted. “But it’s never a becoming look on a lady.”

She tutted, bur the words only made her smile grow. Her eyes lit some sort of fire, and her actions seemed somehow even more sharp than they had been. “What a backwards thing to say. You should know better. And besides, I’ve never been a lady-” She leaned forward, close enough he might have kissed her if they’re swords hadn’t been in the way. “-James.”

Faster than a whirlwind, she had suddenly whipped away and knocked his sword out of his grip. Even as she beat him soundly, her body moved in such fluid and beautiful movements he couldn’t help but stare, dumbfounded.

“Well look,” she said casually, sheathing Cortana again as if their entire duel had been nothing. “Do I have the right to be cocky now, Herondale?” A single eyebrow quirked up as she inquired, her expression toughened despite the smile tugging beneath. She was proud of her win, he was sure. She should be. He was hard to beat.

“Yes,” he said simply, biting back the snide and smart remarks that came to mind. Stepping forward, he took her hand and raised her knuckles to his lips, noting her stance taken off guard as his eyes remained on hers even when his lips brushed her bare fingers. “It was an honor.”

Stepping back into the role she knew with ease, all the possible discomfort and uncertainty laden in her expression mere moments before disappeared. “Please, Mr. Herondale. The pleasure was all mine.”


End file.
